Author's Notes
Alright, so it looks like I'm back from my writing hiatus. No promises on how frequent this bad boy's going to be updated, but at least I've finally gotten to writing it, eh? Haha, I said "eh." I feel so very Canadian. This is the sequel to In The Sun. If you haven't read that, I highly suggest you go do so, because this won't make any kind of sense if you don't.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from South Of Nowhere. They belong to Tom Lynch.
The Sun And The Moon
Chapter 1
By Persephone's Nautical Nun
- Ashley -
I watched the clouds billow and roll around the aircraft as my breath fogged the window. I had absolutely no idea what I was thinking when I decided a trip across the country was in order. I was a fool thinking this could work, much less that I had a right to do this in the first place. I wasn't allowed here. I wasn't allowed where I was going.
I belonged in L.A.
I belonged in that clinic.
That's not true. At least not anymore. Not according to all those licensed specialists I spoke to. My peers disagreed, though. My peers knew the truth. They knew that nothing had changed, and I was still the lowly scum I've always been, not fit to walk this earth. On top of that, they also knew that I was a spoiled brat, using my wealth as a crutch. Correction - my mother's wealth. While the rest of them had real problems, and real issues, mine were completely made up and self-imposed. I didn't have children to look out for. I didn't have a harsh reality that I needed an escape from. I had no reason for losing grip on reality. I had no reason for falling into the dark pit I had fallen into.
I had no excuse.
Spencer... it was hard even thinking her name. It was hard to remember the name, and know exactly what I had done to her. She had an excuse. I did it. It was all my fault. I should have protected her better. I should have...
I shook my head in an attempt to clear those thoughts from my head. Tho guilt was what almost kept me in the clinic. They had been afraid I was going to do something irrational once I got out of there. I guess they were right. Jumping on a plan at first chance is pretty irrational. But, I think they were more afraid of the self-mutilation irrationality. I had thought about it, but as much as I hate to admit it, I was too vain to follow through.
It's times like these, though, that I'm absolutely sure they made a mistake. My files must have gotten mixed up with someone else's. I can't possibly be sane and healthy. A saner person would have made a phone call. A saner person would not be flying middle America, where she probably wasn't even wanted.
I am not this sane person.
Maybe I'm just trying to face my fear and guilt head on, instead of with babysteps. Maybe I think if I go there, she won't be able to run from me. I remember getting out of the clinic and going to Kelly, asking about her whereabouts.
"I think she's gone back to Ohio."
Of course. Stupid me. Where else would she go? School's out, she had nowhere to stay, she was living on campus. Kelly and I were L.A. natives, so we had places we could crash, but she had no such luxury.
I scoff at myself, and my train of thought. I've only been able to think her name once during this entire plane ride. Jesus Christ, I'm pathetic.
I resign myself to my poor choices, made in haste, as the bulky man beside me snores loudly. He probably has the right idea. I should get some sleep. I won't have anywhere to sleep when I land, and I'm sure jetlag will catch up with me eventually. As best I can, I settle into my seat, and fall into a fitful sleep.
---South-Of-Nowhere---
- Spencer -
I couldn't go cold turkey, but it's not for the same reason most cokeheads can't. I couldn't go cold turkey, because hiding the withdrawl symptoms from my mother was next to impossible. The first few weeks I was home, I avoided my mother like the plague, afraid she was going to notice something I didn't want her too, like the shaking, or the unexplainable pains. She had already gone on and on about how much weight I lost, and was afraid L.A. wasn't a healthy place for me to be.
Of all the people to notice something wrong with me, it was Glen that helped me out. One night he came into my room, asking why I seemed so standoffish from the rest of the family. He in no way approved of what I had done, but he understood what I was going through, and admitted that my fears were not unfounded. Without some coke in my system, it was only a matter of time before our mother figured out the truth. It crazy to think she hadn't seen something like this in her years in the medical field.
So, the entire family was surprised as Glen and I started hanging out more. We managed to find summer high school parties where he knew some of the people would be carrying. It felt low, I admit, to have to associate with high school kids, but I was out of options. He didn't like it much, either, preferring to go to college level parties, considering there was a junior college not far from home. Our area was swarming with college kids, and I'm sure he would have had no problem fitting in with them. Unfortunately, he didn't want to be known amongst his own kind as the kid who searched for coke, and I felt bad for taking him away from where he wanted to be.
I owe my brother so much.
Each time I met up with these kids I would do a little less, effectively weening myself off of the shit. About a month into summer vacation, I was clean. I take that back. I wasn't completely clean. Glen and I would go and get high sometimes, but that was the extent of my drug use. A part of me wanted to continue with the coke, because I loved the way it made me feel. It made me feel like a real person, instead of an empty robot following my programming.
But, that life reminded me too much of Ashley.
The name left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Some days were better than others. Some days I would miss her, and I would wrap my arms around myself and curl onto my bed, trying to imagine she was holding me. Other days I'd get irrationally angry at her for doing that to me. What it was she did to me, I'm not quite sure, but that didn't stop me from havrboring the anger.
Maybe I'm just angry that I haven't heard from her.
I had called Kelly a while back to check on Ashley's recovery. She told me that Ashley had checked herself into a rehab center. At the time, I figured it was only a matter of waiting until I heard from Ashley herself. Surely, if she gets better, she'll want to talk to me.
The phone never rang.
Maybe she was still in rehab. Maybe she was sicker than we thought. Maybe she's so far gone that there's nothing anyone can do to fix her.
Besides, I wasn't all that sure I wanted to talk to her. What would I say? Would I want to get back together? Would I even want to be her friend? I don't know how to answer those questions. I guess we'll see when I go back to school in the fall.
The wind is changing. Something's coming, I can feel it. Something's coming that I'm quite sure I'm not going to like.